


Making the Most

by Ninkasa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninkasa/pseuds/Ninkasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Meg have time to kill while waiting for the bus to take them to California.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making the Most

It was something that she really prided herself on.

Hell, she suspected it was the main reason that her father had chosen her for this particular mission.

Meg -- she’d made a habit the last few weeks to introduce herself as Meg, so she’d be used to saying it when the time came -- had always been particularly good at blending in with the humans around her.

It was almost heartbreaking. How easy it was to get Sam to open up to her. How easy it was for her to twist her own story around to mirror his so he would trust her.

Easy to draw from the vague feelings and memories she retained from when she was human.

Easy to do so when she already knew everything about him.

So when she “woke up” to find him staring at his phone in a manner that can only be described as forlornly, she stood up to come to see how much damage control there was to be done.

How nice to realize that his brother had already done the pushing for her.

So she sat down next to him to “check on him” and listened to him talk about Dean for awhile. And yeah. . .she felt slightly bad for him. Or she would if she were inclined to feel such emotions.

She smiled and stretched slightly.

“The important thing, Sam. Is that the people who care about you accept you for who you are.” She paused here. “If they can’t do that, then they probably don’t really care as much as you think.”

Sam frowned at this, but after a moment, the frown eased away slightly. “I don’t know about that. I mean, what if they honestly believe they want what’s best for you? If they’re really trying to protect you?”

Meg stood up, grabbing her backpack and gesturing for him to join her. “Protect you from life?” she said as he stood up with her. “That’s not much of a life, then, is it?”

Sam shrugged slightly, pulled his bag over his shoulder and didn’t say anything for a moment.

Meg smiled again. “Come on. I think I passed a little diner on the way in. We can get something from there. I’m starving.”

He trailed along after her without much prodding. Honestly, they had a day to kill. What the hell else was he going to do?

She slid into a booth in the restaurant she’d vaguely remembered and reached out for a menu. Sam followed, dropping his bags beneath the table where she’d put hers.

Meg frowned down at the menu slightly. She really wanted coffee and she really wanted french fries. 

The waitress came over, took their drink orders and then slid away again.

“So,” Meg said, slipping her hands to rest between her knees and leaning forward to look at Sam. “What’s the plan once you make it to Cali?”

Sam smiled slightly at this and shrugged, shredding a napkin into tiny strips as if he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.

“Find someone I haven’t seen in awhile,” he said. “I need to talk to them about. . .some things.”

Meg raised an eyebrow at this. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask who this was -- she had her suspicions, there was a reason she’d been sent to handle Sam -- but stopped herself in time. Pry too much and she might send him scurrying in the other direction. Or worse, back to his brother, which she just couldn’t have.

Sam smiled again -- and Meg had the vague thought that it was actually a very nice smile -- and sat back when the waitress set their coffee down in front of them.

The waitress looked from one to the other. “Are you guys ready to order?”

Oh. Right. Food.

Meg looked down at the menu and Sam did the same. She hesitated for a moment and then looked back at the waitress. “Can I have a number four? But with French Fries instead of coleslaw?”

The waitress nodded, made a note and then looked at Sam.

Sam folded up the menu and handed it back. “I’ll have the same.”

The waitress raised an eyebrow, looked as if she wanted to say something, but then just took the menu and walked away.

Sam turned back to look at Meg. He looked as if he were about to say something, but stopped and reached out to take the sugar from the holder on the table to put it into his coffee.

Meg toyed slowly with the fork in front of her, framed several openings in her mind and dismissed all of them as not quite right.

She was about to give up entirely when Sam blurted out,

“So, what’s your plan for California?”

Meg smiled slightly. “I don’t know just yet,” she said after a moment’s consideration. She didn’t think ‘attach myself to you like a leech’ was the best way to gain his trust. . .Maybe later, but not right now.

Meg sat back as an open faced turkey sandwich and a plate of fries was placed in front of her and then she shrugged. “I just know that it’s something I’ve always wanted to do. To live out there. Maybe I’ll look into schools. I had pretty good grades in high school. . .”

Sam stopped dipping a French fry in ketchup and looked back up at her. “I was at Stanford for a couple of years,” he said after a moment. “That’s actually what I was taking time off from when I went on this road trip with Dean.”

Meg fought off the urge to grin. She half-expected him to mention Jessica and when he didn’t, she ploughed ahead.

“So you decided college wasn’t for you?”

Here Sam hesitated. “I had some personal things to work through. Taking time off to focus on other things seemed to be the best course of action.”

Meg stabbed at a piece of turkey with her fork and focused on chewing said piece for a long moment.

Excellent work. Specific, yet vague. 

Of course, she supposed the Winchesters had had years of learning how to hedge when it came to explanations.

She led him down more vague topics after that. She didn’t want to push him so far that he shut her out entirely.

And slowly she got him back to the notion of what they would do when they got to California.

Meg smiled as she stood up and the smile got broader as he stood up to join her. 

She weighed her options and picked up her backpack. “Where are you going to stay?” She said after a moment. “We’ve got a whole day before the bus leaves and we’ve already got tickets. . .”

Sam gave her a look she couldn’t read and then said, “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

Oh. What the hell?

“We could split a room,” she said, tipping her head to the side to study him. 

No point in wasting a perfectly good evening after all.

“Well --”

Meg could see the protest forming.

“Split the cost of a room,” Meg clarified. “No point in us paying full price when we’re just using it for a day.”

The protest left Sam’s face and he relaxed slightly. “Yeah. That would work.”

Good. Meg trailed along after him in silence. Easier to keep an eye on him if they were locked up in a room together.

She watched in silence as he handed over a credit card and pretended she didn’t notice the card said “Steve Perry”.

The night clerk blinked for a moment. “Isn’t that the guy from Journey?”

Sam blinked and threw a look at Meg, but she pretended she didn’t hear him.

Sam smiled weakly. “Dad was a classic rock fan.”

The clerk just nodded and handed back the card.

Meg frowned at him as he turned back to her. “I thought we were splitting the room.” She smiled conspiratorially. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were expecting something from me.”

Sam laughed in a manner that she’d already come to realize meant he was uncomfortable. “No. No, of course not. It’s just. . .I don’t have enough cash on me to cover my half.” He paused again. Meg could almost hear his mind firing, trying to do damage control.

She finally smiled. “It’s fine Sam. I’ll pay you back.” 

Someway or another. . .

Sam nodded slowly. “Right.”

She got the impression that he’d just handed the card over without even thinking about it. 

Meg shifted her backpack on her shoulder and followed him back out and down to the room that he’d just bought with a counterfeit card.

Sam stopped in the doorway for a moment, seeming lost in thought before he tossed his duffel bag down onto one of the spare beds and sat down on it.

Meg followed his actions on the second bed and then something else caught her eye.

She grinned slightly as she knelt down to dig through the tiny refrigerator that was set beneath the counter. She wondered if it came with the room or if someone had forgotten it.

Jackpot.

She stepped back and pulled out two bottles of Jack Daniels.

Yeah. . .

Someone had probably forgotten it. Or at least the booze.

She turned back to Sam. “Get some ice.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at this. “Really?”

Meg shrugged. “Unless you want to drink directly out of the bottle.”

He laughed slightly and stood up to grab the ice bucket that came with the room. “No. I’ll go get some ice.”

Meg set the bottles down on the table and shrugged out of her coat and hoodie, she paused to look in the mirror, something she hadn’t done much since taking over this body. 

So perfectly normal looking.

She ran a thumb over her lip once and then shrugged her shoulders and turned away from the mirror when Sam returned with a bucket of ice.

Meg grabbed two of the plastic cups that the motels always left -- presumably so people could brush their teeth -- and set them down on the counter in front of the mirror.

She watched as Sam scooped ice into both of their cups and then poured the whiskey into said cups. He handed her one and then took the other one.

He held up the cup in what she would remember later as a rather awkward toast. “To going our own way.”

“You’re getting the hang of it, Sam,” Meg said and tapped her cup against his.

She drained her cup quite a bit faster than he did. Accidentally. And after a moment when he gave her a rather bewildered look and she tried to think of a way to backpedal, he seemed to shrug it off and refilled her cup.

Things got a bit fuzzy after the third cup. By the fourth, Meg decided “why the Hell not?” and leaned forward to kiss him.

Sam tensed for a moment before relaxing and shifting around -- she assumed because he was sitting on the edge of the bed while she was in the floor.

He slid down onto the floor next to her and reached out to cup her face gently in his hand. Meg felt herself almost go cross-eyed from trying to focus on him as he got closer and finally kissed her back.

Her hands slid up to wrap in the front of his shirt to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. She felt the gasp against her mouth and had to fight back the grin that threatened to form.

There were ways and ways of wrapping him around her little finger.

They slid down fully onto the floor then, Sam pinned her hands above her head to kiss her once more as his hand slid down over her stomach to move beneath the hem of her shirt.

She was really, really not comfortable with this position. She wasn’t used to being on the bottom. But. . .what the Hell.

This seemed to be her mantra of the evening.

Meg moved her heels to toe off her shoes before bringing her legs up to wrap around his waist and ran her toes slowly against the back of his legs.

He moved his head down to kiss her again and Meg let herself lose herself in the moment for a bit. The moment turned more heated and she had to give the boy credit, he knew what he was doing. She gasped slightly as his tongue hit a sensitive spot beneath her bellybutton and wriggled slightly to help him in the removal of his own shirt, running her hands down over his stomach as she did so.

They twisted and turned slightly, because really, the floor was HARD and while Meg could abide many things, the back of her shoe digging into her ribs was not one of them.

He stopped once, fingers resting against the button of her jeans as she lifted herself up to look at him quizzically.

It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt out, “come the fuck on, Sam.”, but instead she said slowly, “Something wrong?”

Sam smiled at her and reached up once to brush his thumb against her bottom lip. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Meg fought the urge to roll her eyes. She fought the stronger urge to declare, “no, I’m rolling around on the floor with you for shits and giggles” and when the laughing danger had passed nodded. “Of course.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not some innocent you’re taking advantage of, if that’s your concern.”

Sam grinned at this. “No. I didn’t think you were,” he said after a moment and he moved himself around to pull out his wallet.

Meg had a wild moment where she thought he was going to offer to pay her for her services. Which would have been ridiculous because she didn’t have a money back if you’re not satisfied guarantee. She wasn’t an appliance store. 

Oh. Wait.

Sam tossed a condom onto the floor next to her and then leaned down to kiss her again.

Meg opened her mouth to protest. Really. There was no danger of. . .well, anything. Sam took advantage of her open mouth as he kissed her and Meg’s response ended up a muffled “hmf” against his mouth.

He pulled back slightly and ran his fingers through her hair gently. 

“I promise I don’t have anything. . .untoward,” Meg said after a moment. 

Honestly, she wasn’t sure, but she thought this body had been a virgin when she’d claimed it.

‘Had been’ being operative in that sentence.

And she was fairly certain she didn’t have anything contagious because her body would kill that shit as soon as it hit her bloodstream.

She didn’t think “the demon blood is a natural prophylactic” was the best way to talk him into anything right now, so Meg sort of frowned at him.

Sam smiled again and kissed her throat once and then leaned back up. “Maybe, but you don’t know if I do.” When Meg opened her mouth to respond to THAT ONE, he rushed on. “And besides. . .we don’t know each other. It’s not safe.”

Oh hell. Whatever. She honestly didn’t care so long as he got the show on the road.

Meg leaned up again and kissed his quickly. “It’s fine. I get it.” She paused here, wondering if he was going to say something about her protests, but he just sank back next to her again.

And thank Christ -- or y’know, whoever -- that he knew what the hell he was doing, because she’d never used a condom before. 

She wondered briefly how long said condom had been in his wallet if he’d been so devoted to Jessica when his fingers slid beneath the elastic of her panties and Meg gasped, pushing up into his hand greedily.

Meg wanted to take over, even as she was writhing underneath his hands, even as she let him slide her panties off or when he unhooked her bra with less ceremony than she’d been expecting. 

She didn’t like not being in control and she was really not in control right now.

She reached out to undo the button on his jeans, tugging down on the zipper to help him out, because really, there were only so many hours in the night and they did eventually have a bus to catch.

After another moment, she flipped them over and pinned his hands above his head for a moment.

He laughed slightly at this and gasped, arching up as she licked and bit a trail down over his chest and stomach and then mimicking his earlier action by slipping her hand down past the waistband of his boxers.

Meg brought her mouth back down to his, gasping slightly when his hands ran up along her side and then up to settle in her hair for a moment. She smiled against his mouth when her hand slid against his cock and he moaned and jerked up into her hand, seemingly involuntarily.

She frowned for a moment when he pulled away from her, before her fuzzy brain registered that he was reaching for the condom he had tossed onto the floor a moment ago.

Oh, right. 

Meg yelped slightly when he shifted his weight again and landed her onto her back beneath him again.

Damn it.

She leaned up slightly onto her elbows to watch him remove his boxers. She didn’t know why she kept expecting him to make a bigger deal about this than he was.

It made her wonder briefly how many times he’d had sex with random girls he’d met by the side of the road. Meg tipped her head to the side as he tore open the condom wrapper and then tipped her head up a bit more as she noticed a pair of beady eyes staring at her from beneath the bed she was laying next to.

Oh. HOT.

Meg busted out laughing as the mouse scurried back under the bed.

As this coincided with Sam reaching out to tip her chin up to kiss her again, it made it difficult to formulate a response when he half-smiled and half-frowned at her. “What?”

Meg shook her head once and then reached up to twist her hands in his hair, pulling him back down to her completely.

“I’ll tell you later.”

He half-smiled at her before kissing her again, rougher this time.

Meg brought her legs up to wrap around his waist then as he brought his hands back down to her waist. She arched up into his touch and then arched further as he entered her, biting back a moan as he did so.

They settled into a quick rhythm as Meg brought her arms up to slide beneath his arms, bringing her hands to brace against his back, raking her nails across the skin as they moved against each other. The only sound in the room was the soft gasps and moans as they moved.

Meg closed her eyes as he moved his thumb in a circular motion against her clit, causing her to arch into him more and her vision swam in sharp lights and colors as her climax wrecked itself through her body, leaving her shaking and breathless. He followed her not a moment later, burying his face against her neck as he came with sharp, shuddering cries into her shoulder.

Meg let out a gasp as he collapsed against her then, expelling what little air was left in her lungs and making her have to catch her breath as he pulled away from her after a moment.

She tipped her head to the side again, reaching up to push his damp hair out of his eyes as he moved to remove the condom and reached out to pull the trash can closer to throw it away.

Sam turned back to her and then flopped down next to her on the floor.

He smiled and she returned the smile after a moment.

“Are you going to tell me what was so funny earlier?”

Meg glanced over the top of his head at the underside of the bed they were next to.

She considered it for a moment. Then she considered any number of other things that he should know. 

She shook her head and kissed him again quickly.

“Trust me. You don’t want to know.”

He nodded slightly. She could tell he didn’t believe her, but he settled down on the floor a bit closer to her and laid there in silence for a moment.

They were going to have to get up in a moment. He was going to get cold. . .and that wouldn’t do her any good at all.

Meg turned over on her side to look at his profile while he laid with his eyes closed.

She frowned then.

It was too bad her father had other plans for him.

She’d like to see what he could get up to once he’d gotten used to her.


End file.
